Not Again, or What did I do this time?
by A Random Bowser
Summary: In which Ginny wears the pants in the family and Harry tends to end up in the den. Written for Round Four of Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition.


Title: Not Again or What did I do this time?

Author: **A Random Bowser**

Word Count: 1,641

For: The Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition- Wigtown Wanderers

Prompts: 6 - Amusement

_Optional prompts:_

4. Therapy, All Time Low,

2. Dialogue: "Lesson learnt?"

7. "Here's to alcohol, the rose colored glasses of life." ― F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Beautiful and Damned

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Some OOC is to be expected.

* * *

Harry took a moment to look down at the six women who allowed him the honor to call his. When the war had ended (the audience watched in confusion as he counted on his fingers softly to himself as whilst leaning heavily against the podium) seven or so years ago, he had never thought that he would find himself in this situation, or as comfortable with it as he currently was. Indeed he had had every intention of marrying the, at that time, only love of his life and making an honorable woman of her. What he hadn't expected was for her to up and decide that they were not only not getting married, but also that he would be expected to accept five other women into their house. It had been an interesting conversation to say the least, and Ginny, as per usual, had won. Harry blinked as his train of thought returned to the present and the speech his girls had carefully wrote out for him.

He looked down at the short, all six lines long, piece of parchment Ginny had given him with orders to "say this and only this", took a sip from his glass, and promptly threw it over his shoulder. "I wonder what potion Luna slipped me this time," he muttered out loud before clearing his throat and turning to beam at his family, friends, and everybody else, the latter making up the largest portion of the guests.

"According to Ron, Firewhisky makes everything better, even the fact that Ginny is a slut- his words not mine. I am far too self-preserving to dare say that to the mother of my eldest child, though he will never be my heir as he was adopted by a nice muggle family just before September of 1997. Of course, that little tidbit of information is kept under wraps, thick and heavy wraps that won't ever be lifted least anyone wishes to suffer the wrath of Ginevra Weasley, something even the ferret (everybody stand up and wave to the Ferret hiding in the back, I know I didn't invite him to this shindig but here he is) isn't stupid enough to do. Ooops, sorry Gin-Gin, but since the cat is out of the bag so to speak, I might as well come clean; Mum Weasley, your daughter is not a virgin.

"According to Hermione, Ron is a slush and I need to go to therapy, as I hit an all-time low when I allowed a girl six years younger than me join my harem- her words, not mine. Once again, I am not stupid as to even hint that the rather zealous quarter veela is anything but perfect for me. I like sex too much. I also let Ginny boss me around (with a body like hers can you blame me) more than is healthy and therein lay the problem, in _Life According to Hermione_. Thankfully, she has always been a loyal friend. Notice that I am not mentioning the fact that she is currently shacking up with youngest Creevey brother. Dennis, I love you, whatever you do to Hermi'ne please keep doing it. It is at this point I normally cough and ask her how her parents are doing. Hermione dear, how are your parents doing by the way, did they like the present I sent them?

"According to Luna, Hermione should spend more time in the garden with her, drinking tea (and who knows what else) from rose glasses. I mean that literally, too. Notice these awesome glasses, they were once real roses, from bushes that I spent hours tending, which no longer exist because Luna wanted to drink from a rose. My poor babies, I miss you." Here Harry paused to kiss the glass gently, before finishing whatever it contained. "I love my Lunar Beam almost as much as I love Ginny, but she has ingested one too many experimental potions to be considered completely sane. Thankfully, I have an agreement, signed in blood for extra measure, saying that she will lay off everything but Earl Gray and water when she is pregnant; otherwise there is no telling how my, our, kids would have turned out. Although with the potions she has been slipping me lately, there really is no telling, sorry Professor." Harry ended the brief ramble with a sheepish smile and a wave in the direction of the Headmistress.

"Neville refuses to give his input on the situation, although whenever he bothers to poke his head out of the manor's greenhouse, he struts around with a shit-eating, I-told-you-so grin, before thumping me on the back and asking me how things are going. You're not fooling me, mate; the only reason you aren't offering up 'I-told-you-sos' and 'lesson learneds' is because you know that I know exactly the kind of kinky shit you and your girl of the month are getting up to in that back greenhouse. There is a reason that not even the house-elves will go back there. Eewww.

"According to my girls, as I refuse to call them a harem (they are all free to leave any time they wish), I should relax and enjoy the benefits of being the Boy-Who-Lived, the Teen-Who-Survived, and God's-Gift-To-Women. (God, I love that name.) Namely, that the six of them have given me everything I have ever wanted. A large family, as at this point my precocious Gabby is the only one who has given me only one child (a beautiful daughter at that), daily reassurance that they love me and want to be with me, seeing as none of them have left yet, and plenty of children to dote on, with more to come as long as they don't make me sleep on the couch, again.

"Girls, I mean ladies, jewels of the earth, and precious fruits that make up my orchard, please, I beg of you, please, don't make me sleep in the den ever again. I promise my lesson has been learnt and I will never interrupt one of your _study_ dates again.

"That all said, I would like to raise my glass to the hostess of the most brilliant birthday party that has been held for me in the twenty nine years I have been on this earth, Headmistress McGonagall. May you be blessed by my birthday gift to you, and the rose colored glasses, as you prepare for the herd of Potters that will be starting Hogwarts before you know it. You truly are a great lady. Thank you."

The speech had gone surprisingly well, considering the amount of alcohol Harry had drank before the time for speeches came about, and yeah, he might have let a few secrets out of the bag...James being the biggest one, but none of the girls seemed to upset with him. Besides from the look of things, everyone but Ginny, who was limited to apple juice due to the fact that she was currently expecting her fourth, would be too wasted to actually remember more than the fact that Harry had had them laughing for the greater part of it.

Harry kept a tight grip on his light pink, rose shaped goblet, (one of the many that he and his ladies, had gifted to McGongall along with a case of scotch for each of their children) avoiding the thorns with skill that comes from being pricked one time to many, as he stumbled down the stairs from the raised dais that was placed front and center for those who wished to give a speech a toast, or in the case of Millicent Bulstrode, a song or to in honor of the birthday man/god (her words, I swear). He made his way to the large circular table that seated his ladies and friends, the children having been left with a babysitter for the night, and gave everyone sitting around it a rather wet kiss on the lips, even Ron and Colin Creevey (much to the former's embarrassment and the latter's delight), before settling in his own seat between Luna and Ginny. "Gin-Gin, I love you, but Hermi'ne is right, you are a controlling dominatrix, but as long as you are my controlling dominatrix, that is okay. I love you."

* * *

Harry came awake with a groan, wandering how he had ended up on the ancient Victorian sofa in the den instead of his own nice, warm bed in the company of the six beautiful ladies that allowed him to call them his. Harry pulled his arm from under his head and used it to cover his eyes as his head fell back with a solid oof.

He didn't bother moving, knowing that with the headache he was suffering from, he wasn't likely to get far; instead he settled for draping most of his robe over his face and reviewing the events of his birthday party the previous night. He couldn't think of anything that would have landed him; he was even careful about sticking fairly close to the speech the girls had written for him, and the few slips he had made shouldn't have been noticed or remembered with the amount of drinking that had taken place.

Unable to remember much past the speech, Harry gathered up his Gryffindor courage and resolve and rolled off the couch. He paused for a moment in order for the floor to stop turning before standing to go in search of Ginny. Hopefully she would tell him what exactly he had done wrong to deserve the sofa. Maybe she would even tell him if it was worthy of begging for forgiveness.

"I promise, love, I have learned my lesson and I will _never_ do it again, just please let me come back to bed." Harry muttered under his breath, practicing the perfect apology which he had learned many years ago.


End file.
